anklet
By Wirra B
Published 13 June 2019
Tightly and intricately woven by hands that hold less than I.
Flooding nostalgia runs through the veins of the pattern.
Vivid vignettes held in my hand of
hazy, white hot, bustling cities,
stretching terrace jungles,
leathery, crinkled faces,
and molten gold sunsets.
What was handed to me was an anklet,
and I handed back an opportunity.
